A Double Bourbon
by IlluminatedM
Summary: When Elena chooses neither Salvatore, Damon walks away. Two years later we find her in a hospital bed, giving birth to her son. But how did she get there, and more importantly, where is she going? Will she track down her long lost love, or will she allow herself to grow old and die without ever telling him who she would've chosen, if he'd only given her a little more time?
1. Elena's Savior

**_A/N: Hello, my darling readers! This is my first Vamp-Fic for TVD, so I hope y'all fall in love as much as I have. Gimmie a shout and let me know what you think!_**

**_-M._**

It had been nearly two years since Elena last saw Mystic Falls; the day that Stefan had broken his promises, and Damon had walked away.

_"Elena," Stefan began, Damon stepping next to him with arms crossed in his usual, all black attire. They seemed to be playing Team Salvatore more and more often, but the united front was still odd for her to see at times._

_"We can't…" Stefan started, "We can't do this anymore!"_

_Elena was astonished by the assertion, but she had known that it was coming; she simply didn't know whether or not they would truly hear her answer. Because deep don, she _did _love them both, but it wasn't like it had been to Katherine; she didn't _want _them both._

_"If I chose one of you, I lose the other…" She trailed off, and her eyes locked on Damon._

_Stefan and Damon looked at each other for a moment, silently acknowledging that she was right, and neither one of them would go back on their deal. _

_"That's why it's called a choice, Elena." Damon stated without any emotion in his voice, clearly already anticipating that it would "Always be Stefan". She had looked at him with her "I'm so sorry, Damon" Expression, and it had immediately pissed him off._

_She nodded, acknowledging his anger before continuing, "I can't do that. I won't. I don't want to make a choice that could cause one of you to be hurt." She cried, resting her head in her hands with a small, self-centered cry._

_At that, Damon pushed off the wall and walked forward, grabbing her jaw and staring directly into her eyes. _

_"Then allow me. Goodbye, Elena. Stefan."_

_ He nodded to his brother before making long, angry strides out of the room. Elena had feared something like this would happen, but she didn't believe that Damon would just _leave_ her. Perhaps she should have, but she wasn't ready to give up on him; her heart simply would not allow it, so she raced after him out the door. _

_"Damon, wait!" She screamed as he opened his car door; it closed with a deafening slam, and he marched towards her._

_"Wait?! Wait for __WHAT__, Elena? For you to choose Stefan, again? For you to love him and come to _me_ when you need to be protected? Or better yet, to hear you moaning _his_ name, giggling in _his_ arms, and sleeping in _his_ bed while I lie in my bed at night wondering why it is __always__ Stefan?!"_

_She sputtered, unsure of what to say and unused to Damon literally screaming in her face; the tears rolled down her cheeks, and she let out a small whimper, silently begging his forgiveness with her eyes, but he was entirely unmoved._

_"I was right." He told her in a cool, calm tone that she knew only temporarily masked his boiling anger. _

_"About what? Damon, please…" She whispered, hoping that he would forget the question; that he would say that he still loved her, that he wouldn't leave her._

_Damon simply took another step back and turned on heel before saying coldly, "I've spent two years telling you that you're nothing like Katherine. I was right; you're worse."_

_And before she could even let out her cry of sorrow, he was in his black Mercedes and had already turned the key. She couldn't let him go, not like this, so she ran towards it, but Damon was far quicker than she was. By the time she reached the place that the car had been parked, Damon was speeding down the street; she fell to her knees and cried on the tracks his wheels had left, knowing that it was the last time that she would ever see Damon Salvatore, the choice her heart had made before her mind did. And so, in agony and heartbreak, she screamed at the sky, the ground, and him as he sped away from her, not looking back._

_But she wanted to follow. _

_Nothing was real. _

_Didn't he understand? _

_She could not imagine a universe, no matter how many dimensions there were, without a Damon in it. _

_There was no world for her, if there was no Damon._

_For the rest of Elena Gilbert's life, there would be no reason to wake in the morning, but she would anyway. There would be no reason to work, but she would. And there would be no reason to walk the streets in search of him out on a hunt, but every night for almost a year, she did._

What she found there was very similar to Damon Salvatore – a demon, and a savior.

And now, as Elena lay in the hospital bed sweating and panting with tears streaming from her eyes while the small, blonde nurse gently cleaned her now-screaming newborn child, she blocked those memories out, not wanting to think about what the Salvatore brothers would think if they could see her now.

Instead, she chose to focus on the new center of her universe, he son. He was a beautiful baby boy with a head full of thick, dark hair that was matted with fluid, and she was thanking any available deity for his safe delivery. After the violence that was his conception – the demon – Elena was terrified that he might not make it through the entire pregnancy, but she had been very fortunate and had very few complications.

She had been ready to die, or turn simply with the hope that she may one day cross his path, but the baby growing inside of her had been her savior. She ate, slept, and made sure she finished her Associate's degree before the baby was due; she wouldn't have survived without him.

Staring at him now, she could almost see the man that he would grow to be – strong, powerful, handsome, and kind. This was her second chance at life, and she would not damage that for anything in the world; he would be hers and she would be his, and she would never be alone in the world again.

"What would you like to name him?" The nurse, her nametag said _"Vicky"_, asked her, cutting through her thoughts.

It was an answer that she didn't have, to a question that she had spent eight months, two weeks, and six days avoiding. When she thought about it, she figured that she ought to name him something heroic, something strong, because that was what she had strived to be, what she hoped to raise him to be. But the truth of it was, that she _wasn't _strong; she was a weak, insecure human who couldn't be bothered to fight for what her heart wanted, even as he walked away from her.

Through her self-berating inner dialogue, she had a memory hit her full force.

_"If I'd have chosen differently, I wouldn't have met you…"_

It was how she felt about the man who had said those words, and it was how she felt about her beautiful son now, knowing that if she had chosen to walk down a safer street that night in Denver, he wouldn't be here with her right now.

And if, the night that her parents died, she had chosen to wait for Matt to drive her home, as she should have, she would never have met the man that she now knew to be her soul mate – whether he knew it or not.

And because of that one simple sentence – which she hadn't thought of since he had first uttered the words in his dying breath – her son received the strong, heroic name that she had hoped to bless him with.

"Damon." She told the nurse, her voice breaking, "Damon Joel."

And that, well, that was the beginning of the beautiful tragedy that truly was the life of Elena Gilbert.


	2. What's In a Name?

**A/N: I have to admit that I'm pretty disappointed that not very many people reviewed the last chapter... I ****_hope_**** that more than six of you are interested in this story; maybe I ought to edit the summary a little bit so that it's more attention gathering. **

**Anyway, if you're reading, drop me a review :) If we get to 20, I'll update on Wednesday, and if not, never fear, I shall update Friday or Saturday!**

**Eternally Yours [But Preferably Damon's],**

**-M.**

It wasn't until DJ had turned nine that Elena decided she could not die without saying goodbye to Damon. When she had finally made that decision, she left her son with Jeremy for his summer break while she went on a hunt to find the undying gentleman that was, as he said, "eternally in debt". She sought after Elijah Mikaelson, the most trustworthy man she had ever met.

It took the entire first month of her mission just to find him, and when she finally had, he had been hesitant to allow the change, in fear of the destruction of her humanity and the life of her son, but he knew it needed to be done. In the past five years alone, Nikklaus had nearly bled her dry three times in order to build his hybrid "family", and Elijah couldn't handle slaying hundreds more of them, as he did each time his brother took a step towards building his own personal military. When Elijah informed Klaus of his intentions, the man was livid, but knew better than to argue with his older brother. Still, he feared family conflict and DJ's well-being.

But in the end, Elijah had consented to being her creator, and he allowed her to drink from him before gently splitting her spine. He then spent the remainder of the summer teaching her how to hunt and control her desires, understanding her need to reunite with a long lost love.

To this day, nearly fifteen years after her change, Elena could still see a sorrow in Elijah's eyes when she spoke of his beloved Katerina – a sweet, innocent girl whose greatest fun had turned from a game of chase to a round of slaughtering innocent women. And so, when the time came where her son, at the young and knowledgeable age of twenty three, had decided he wished to join his mother in eternity, he went to his Uncle Elijah to grant him his wish.

Elijah, of course, alerted Elena immediately of her son's inquiry, and she spent nearly a year trying to ensure that he knew exactly what he was deciding. In that year, she had fully opened up to him about her world, why she had decided to remain twenty nine for eternity, and every single detail that Elena, Elijah, and even Katherine knew about the man that he was named after.

Elena had been the one to change him, once he had finished college and felt that it was the appropriate time, and she cried the entire while that she sat at his side in the Mikaelson parlor. All night, Elijah held onto her and assured her that nothing could have gone wrong, and she did not just kill her baby boy.

DJ awoke with a graceful air about him that would have put Rebakkah to shame, and he took to his new life immediately, as if he were born specifically to change. He took less time than Elena to gain his control and was steadfast becoming a rival in combat, even to Elijah.

But today, he was sitting beside his mother – although a majority of the club assumed that she was his slightly-older date – awaiting a lazy, New York City bar tender, who had spent more time rubbing the back of his mother's hand as she reached for her shots than he had serving his customers. The hope was that they might find Damon in one of his favorite cities in the world, and Elena was certain that if he was actually there, then they would find him drinking.

Elena knew that, according to every parenting book that she had ever read, it was inappropriate to drink so much in front of your child, but she was shaking so badly that she had no other solution. When, a year after his change, DJ wanted to help his mother find Damon, it had seemed like a good idea. Now, as she sat in the eighth bar of the night, she had decided it was really a rather stupid plan, and she wouldn't know what to say to the man even if he were sitting beside her at that very bar.

Oh, how ironic…

"Didn't anyone tell you? Women like you make their money _behind_ the building." She heard a voice, dripping with cruelty and sarcasm, say from the other side of her son.

"Damon," she gasped, recognizing his voice immediately as she leaned forward and stared down the bar at him with eyes full of shock; she never actually thought the bar-hopping idea would _work, _and now she had no clue what to say to him.

Before he had time to respond, DJ readily jumped to her defense, "Hey, asshole, watch who you're talking to."

She watched nervously, still shaking like a leaf, as Damon threw his head back and laughed, and DJ tapped his fingers on the bar, signaling to the bar tender that he wanted another bourbon.

"Oh, boy," Damon chuckled sardonically, "believe me when I tell you that I know _exactly_ who that woman is. The question is, do you?"

DJ didn't stop to think about who the man sitting in front of him actually was – a common trait of his – before he angrily responded, with his voice shaking in an underlying rage,

"Well, I do believe that the woman that you just insinuated was a whore is named Elena Petrova, age twenty-nine – for the last fourteen and a half years. She graduated from the Denver College of Arts with all honors almost twenty five years ago, has written four different novels – all of which have been accepted to publishing companies within the last year – and is about this close to beating you senseless. I get that right?" He asked over his shoulder, awaiting her minute nod before telling a shocked Damon Salvatore, "Yeah, I'd say that I know my mother pretty well at this point in my life."

Damon's eyebrows raised as he leaned across the bar, feeling vindictive, "So, what, Donovan knocked you up, and then you were scared to turn thirty? Found some idiotic vampire who thought being stuck with you forever sounded great, and then you decided to kill your son?"

Elena wanted to cry; it was the first time that she had seen him in nearly twenty seven years, and he hadn't missed her a bit. She knew that he'd be cruel, and she knew that even if she tried to pretend that his words didn't hurt he would see right in through her. So, feeling that it was the easiest route, she decided to be honest.

"I went to Elijah to turn me… He offered to help me gain my control, and then when DJ got older he wanted to turn. I haven't seen Matt since his wedding, and I… I don't know DJ's father." She stumbled out, staring at her lap.

At that, Damon smirked, "Not surprising. You got around plenty in high school; I can see how you would have trouble keeping track of names."

It came down to snapping his neck in a public place or leaving, so Elena got out of her seat and bee-lined for the door, causing Damon to release a small, sadistic chuckle.

DJ's first instinct was to tear into Damon's neck – _"Any man who disrespects your mother deserves death, Joel."_ His Uncle Elijah's voice echoed through his brain – but he decided that he'd better just leave the bastard downing in guilt, if he hadn't already flipped his Switch.

"I sure got a shitty name." He announced, taking a long swig of his bourbon, which he had all but forgotten up until now.

"I'll say," the older version of himself replied, "what kind of fucking name is DJ anyways?"

"A nickname." He replied, his tone as cold as Damon's as he stood.

"For what?" The older man asked him, at which he glared daggers.

"Damon Joel Petrova."

The man said nothing as DJ turned and began to walk away, but an afterthought stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh, and Damon?"

Icy blue eyes locked with his. "What?"

With an equally intense stare, he told him simply,

"I wouldn't personally know, but I imagine that 'Please, stop' comes before 'What's your name?' on the list of questions to ask while you're being raped in an alley at nineteen years old."

A look of shock passed over the older vampire's face, but DJ didn't think he deserved even a half-assed explanation, and left him to roll the thought around in his head while DJ strode from the bar, slamming the door behind him.

**A/N: I am cranking these out like Wonder Woman, I tell ya! I guess I just have a bit of inspiration! **

**Read and Review :)**


	3. Broken Words

**A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! If we get to forty this time, which I sincerely hope that we can, since so many of you are reading it, I will update again on Monday! If not, Saturday it is! J Thank you all for your amazing support!**

** This particular Author's Note goes out to a Guest who had a concern about DJ's name, I shall explain. Being of Russian affiliation, I understand that Petrova can be derived from a Russian word meaning, "stone" or "made of stone", and it often Petrov for men. HOWEVER, in most of the Western nations, children carry on the surnames of their parents, so changing it to ""Petrov" because DJ is male would have been illogical. **

**In addition to that, I do not believe that it sounds "ridiculous", as you say, because Damon means demon or "subdued", Joel means "The Lord is God" and Petrova means "of stone". So, his name, much like Damon Salvatore's [which means "demon" "savior"] is a purposefully contradicting phrase. **

**But I assure you, no offense was taken whatsoever, and I sincerely appreciate your honest concerns and assure you that I did plenty of research and forethought before deciding that Elena and DJ would have the surname "Petrova"; why Elena changed her name and chose that particular one shall be explained in the upcoming chapters**

**On with the show then, my lovelies! **

**-M.**

A week later, DJ strolled back into the bar that he had met his namesake in the previous week and sat down. He knew that that prick would show up here tonight, right after Uncle Elijah gave Mom a call. She had spent nearly three hours crying on the phone, telling him how cruel Damon had been in the few short minutes that they'd spoken. It tore at DJ's heart, much like he knew it was doing to his uncle at that moment, but he couldn't help listening in.

"The only thing in this world that I _wouldn't _trade for him is DJ, Elijah. How am I supposed to move on from that? I've spent almost thirty years dreaming of him and wishing that I could just go back in time and make the _right _choice! And he won't even let me explain! He just sat there and called me horribly names, in front of my son!"

Uncle Elijah had listened quietly, DJ noted through his eavesdropping, and then reassured her that Damon, by calling him and demanding answers, had already proven that he would see her again. She would have her chance to explain, to vent, and she would get her closure – although all three of them knew that _closure_ was not what Elena was looking for. But Elijah assured her nonetheless that this would not be the last time that she saw him; he would make sure of that.

And sure enough, only a few moments after DJ sat down on a stool that night, he felt the air move on his right and noted the tall, built form of Damon Salvatore seated beside him. DJ tapped his hands on the bar, getting a drink and sipping it silently as though he hadn't the slightest idea that Damon had been there.

"Where's your mother?" He questioned irately, not even bothering with frivolous greetings after DJ's lack of acknowledgement.

In a sarcastic huff, DJ replied, "Oh, you know, probably behind the building; where '_women like her_' generally are, right?"

He watched the older man sigh and drum his fingers on the bar in the direction of the host – just the way that DJ had done it a few moments ago – before turning to face him.

"Why is your name Damon, kid?" He sighed, glaring down at him.

"Why do you care?" He shot back.

With a sigh, the Salvatore replied, "I suppose it's because I prefer to think that I'm a custom made vampire. One of a kind and all that crap."

DJ let out a low chuckle, trying to figure out what it was about this man that his mother had spent his entire life pining over. He hoped that at some point he would figure it out, because at this point the only positive thought he had about Damon Salvatore was what he would look like with a stake through his heart; DJ didn't take too kindly to _anyone_ hurting his mother. Especially not when that someone was the man who his mother told him bed time stories about throughout his life. "Damon Salvatore" was the dark, dangerous hero who saved the day, no matter what; he was the hero he'd never even met but strived to be just like.

_Fuck that._

"If you give a damn enough to ask me," he told the older man, "then have the decency to go ask the woman who chose it, if she's even willing to speak to you at this point."

He snorted, further irritating DJ. "Decency would be the fact that I didn't snap her neck for fun; speaking to her would only be further increasing the temptation."

"Why do you hate her so much, Damon? She was just a _kid_!"

Damon sighed and stared off into the distance, "That's where you're wrong, kid. Your mother has _always_ been a woman, from the day I met her."

"No, she was a seventeen year old _kid_ who got stuck having to deal with the adult world, and you're holding it against her."

Damon shook his head and set his glass down, looking directly at DJ as he told him simply, "Tell you what, go get your heart trampled on by a 'kid', and then tell me how willing you are to swallow while she tries to feed you the same bullshit that she fed you every day for three years."

This was going absolutely nowhere.

At the same time, both men sighed and took long swigs from their glasses as they savored the flavor of their drinks, taking in deep breaths once they were through.

"Women like Elena – your mom – they don't change, kid. Women like that-" Damon began, but he was cut off when DJ finished his sentence for him.

"Women like _Katerina_, you mean?" He asked.

Damon looked up, surprised that Elena had let him in on so much, although he had clearly heard the majority of the tale through Elijah, since her Bulgarian name seemed to roll off the boy's tongue with ease. In response to the older man's silence, DJ pressed on.

"You realize, I hope, that she is nothing like my mother?"

Once again, DJ watched as Damon laughed at him, forcing him to grit his teeth in anger.

"And _you_ obviously haven't heard the full story of either of those women."

DJ sighed.

"So, you fucked Katherine, Stefan fucked Katherine, Elijah fucked Katherine; EVERYBODY fucked Katherine. Who cares, Damon? My mother is _not_ Katerina Petrova."

Damon rolled his eyes; the boy was clearly too young to understand what it felt like to lose the love of his life to his brother, _twice_.

"Your _'mother'_ used me. She cried on me, laid with me, and came to me to keep her safe, and she didn't bother looking back the moment Stefan came home. She-. . . ."

"Chased you out into the street, cried in your tire tracks, couldn't eat, drink, or sleep for weeks, searched for you every night, and has spent my entire life having the same nightmare." DJ deadpanned.

At this, Damon's curiosity peaked. "Nightmare?"

"Why don't you ask _her_, dude? We've only spent, I don't know, a year or three hunting you down so that she could tell you."

DJ could see the contemplative look on Damon's face and knew that he would only need a bit more convincing. But no matter what it took, DJ would do anything in the world to get him to speak to Elena, regardless of the fact that the idea of having Damon anywhere near his mother again had put DJ on edge.

"Don't you think that maybe, just maybe, you owe it to her?"

At that, Damon's head snapped up with an angry look crossing his face. This was good; this was the reaction DJ had been aiming to evoke.

"No. I don't owe Elena _anything_, but she owes this to me."

With a smirk, DJ stood.

"Well then, by all means, follow me."

**A/N: And up next is the confrontation, which I am ever so looking forward to… **

**-m :)**


	4. I Already Knew

**A/N: I'm baaaaaaack **

**And I have something to say... I actually just posted this chapter a moment ago and immediately got a flame from a Guest. As a heads up, I respect your opinion. As a response, however: I _do _plot my chapters in advance, the only plot in this chapter is a conversation, and the ending paragraph was not meant to be "smut"; it is intended to be a display of rage and desperation. And finally, if you're going to call my work "pathetic", then at least capitalize your sentences in your review.**

**All my love,**

**Momo**

With their combined speed, it only took the two men a few minutes to reach the place where Elena had been staying; it was the nicest, most expensive foreclosure in the borough, and Damon made note that she still applied the tips and tricks he'd shown her in her early vampirism.

"Mom?" DJ called, stepping through the front door. "I brought a visitor." With DJ's last word came a whoosh of cool air and, once again, Damon found himself staring into the honey brown eyes of the second woman he'd fallen in love with – the second Petrova Doppelgänger.

"Damon." She gasped, reaching out as if to be sure that he was real while he stood in front of her, taking a small step back, out of her reach.

At this, DJ shot him and angry glare and dramatically sighed, "Yup, the first and greatest jackass in all of New York City."

Both "adults" shot him a glare, and he shrugged as he kissed him mother on the cheek.

"Not quite sure how you turned _this,_' He said, as he gestured towards the older predator, "into my bedtime story hero, but hey – I got him here; now I'm going to leave you two alone and go out for a bite."

Elena nodded, patting him lightly on his head as she warned, "The ones down in Soho taste a little muddy; stick in the Chelsea district, alright?"

In response, he simply chuckled as he swayed out the door, shooting Damon a cautious glance on his way down the walk.

Carefully, Elena closed the door behind him and hesitated a moment before finally turning to face the man she had been searching for since she was eighteen.

"Damon," she breathed, "I'm so sorry."

In response, Damon merely shook his head and sauntered into the living room, planting himself carefully on the sofa opposite to the one where her journal lay open, a half empty Jack and Coke sitting beside it. He sneered at her poor choice of liquor while waiting for her to quit fidgeting at the doorway and take a seat.

After a few more moments, she did, and she wrung her hands together nervously before looking back up at him.

When, after several more seconds, she still didn't speak, Damon decided that if he wanted this to go anywhere at all, he would have to initiate conversation.

"When did you decide you cared, Elena?" He asked with a calculating coldness in his voice, "Was it when I left, or when Stefan did?"

At this, Elena stuttered, "I-I… You were w-walking out the door, l-leaving, and I realized that my heart had already made its choice, even when my h-head couldn't."

Damon had to remind himself not to roll his eyes; Kathrine could always force herself to the verge of tears when necessary, and he knew by now that Elena wasn't any different. He was actually about to tell her so, but then her story continued.

"I wandered around looking for you in Mystic Falls every night, but you weren't ever there. And then Caroline and Ste-Stefan sent me to Denver with Jeremy. They thought I'd move on, but then my brain convinced me that you _must_ be in Denver, waiting for me to find you and apologize, because that seemed like something you'd do."

He wondered, had he not been so crushed, if he really would've done something like that; the answer was a definite yes.

"So you spent two years running around in search of me and then what? You found _DJ _in a coffee can in the dumpster?"

He flinched at his own words and watched as she did the same, knowing he truly was being overly cruel but still far too hurt to admit it.

In a half assed attempt at a smile, Elena responded in an emotionless voice, "Something like that."

Every cell in Damon's body was screaming at him, telling him to apologize, but a part of him just couldn't find it in himself to do so.

Instead, he allowed Elena to continue, "Then, a few months later, I realized I had to quit searching for you."

"Why?" He asked her, genuinely curious as to why she had given up her dedicated, delirious pursuit of him.

She smiled softy, her eyes glazing over as she brought a hand down to her stomach while she explained, "It wasn't just about me anymore. I had a baby to take care of; he needed me, and I knew that I couldn't keep letting myself waste away when someone so small and helpless relied on me to make the right decision. Damon, you were every thought that ran through my mind, and I couldn't let myself do that anymore. My baby needed me; DJ needed me."

His head dropped into his hands while his heart ached at her attempt to explain herself, and he could almost feel his heart twinge with forgiveness before he shut it down.

"And your delirious obsession is what prompted your decision to name your obnoxious kid after me?"

At that, Elena's arms crossed in defense of her child. "He's not obnoxious, he just doesn't like you; you're hard to like."

He chuckled, his eyes meeting hers as he told her, "I've been told – most recently by a coven of angry witches."

She smiled slightly and decided to wrap her story up, which he could tell was mostly just to avoid further questioning, "Eventually, I went to Elijah to turn me, because I decided I couldn't die without telling you how I felt, and DJ followed my choice a year or two ago."

"And how _do _you feel, Elena?" He questioned, staring at her with analyzing eyes, careful not to miss any facial cues she may have retained over the years that he'd been in New York.

She looked up at him as he stood, her face openly displaying a certain fear and insecurity that was all too familiar to him as she told him, "I'm in love with you, Damon."

With a swoosh of air, he had pulled her off the couch and pinned her against the wall, her wrists locked tightly in one of his fists as he gripped her jaw, forcing her to look him in the eyes. Roughly, he smashed his lips against hers and tore her shirt from her body, grabbing onto her hip with a force that could almost break it, if he moved a certain way.

Next came her jeans and then his own before he halted to stare into her blackened eyes – eyes he had dreamt about for thirty years – and said, "I hate you, Elena."

She nodded, and he slammed into her with a groan. He knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he meant what he said; he absolutely hated this woman, this _Petrova_.

And as he continued to use her body to take out his three decades of pent up rage, Elena whispered a soft, "I know…" as a silent tear rolled down her cheek.

**AN: I decided this is now officially upped to "M".. ;)**


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